Iwake up to the steady beep of monitors and a head that feels stuffed full of fuzz. The lighting is dim. The only real illumination comes from the muted television mounted in the corner of the room. I’m lying in an unfamiliar bed, dressed in a thin cotton gown with wires running beneath the collar. There’s an IV in my arm, a clip on my finger, and a thick bandage wrapped tight around my left hand.
With a jolt, I try to sit up—to move.
But the pain in my head makes me wince.
The beeping quickens.
My dad comes to the end of a chair at my bedside, looking in sore need of a good shave.
“Easy,” he says as my good hand moves to the back of my head, where the pain radiates.
A small gauze pad has been taped into my hair.
“You’ve got quite the bump back there, sweetheart.”
I look out the window, trying to decipher the time, but the sky is an endless gray. Floodlights glow weakly over a parking lot where a snowplow scrapes and rumbles. Tree branches are glazed in ice. In the distance, snow-covered mountains disappear into the fog.
“How—how did I get here?” I ask, my throat dry.
“The ambulance,” Dad replies.
His eyes are bloodshot.
His clothes, rumpled.
“You have a concussion, Selah. And you had some sort of episode with your heart.”
My attention drifts toward the television. Ticker tape scrolls across the bottom of the screen.Missing Teens Found Alive in Foggy Hollow Woods.And suddenly, all the fuzzy pieces collide.
Mom, holding out the ruby.
Rafe, shooting the arrow.
Tentacles thrashing.
Winged creatures swooping.
The hounds lunging at Simon.
The empty boat spinning across the water.
Jude, running toward me, grabbing onto me.
“What happened?” I ask. “Is everyone okay?”
“Everyone is fine,” Dad says. And yet, there’s something in his eyes. Hesitation, perhaps. Or maybe a lie.
“Twig? Jude?”
He holds up his hands, as though to quell the rising pitch of my voice. “Spencer and Kate went home with their parents a couple hours ago. He didn’t want to leave, but everyone needs to get some sleep. And Jude is just fine, too.
“We should call for the nurse.” Dad pushes himself up from the chair to hit the button on my bedside table, then picks up a glass of water and helps me take a drink. “Jake took Harper home. Naomi’s down the hall. And Ivy Winslow…” He shakes his head. “They had a funeral for that girl.”
“Is she okay?”
“She’s being monitored. So are the three that went missing last month.” He eases back into his chair and runs a hand down his tired face. “Selah, what you guys did…”
My pulse races.
